


Mind Over Matter

by flintwoodandco



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Lovers, Getting to Know Each Other, Hogwarts, M/M, Questioning, Sneaking Around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 14:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18662425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flintwoodandco/pseuds/flintwoodandco
Summary: Oliver has a lot on his mind





	Mind Over Matter

Oliver throws open the door to his and Percy’s room, his bag tossed to the side before he falls face first onto the bed.

“Hello to you too, Oliver,” Percy says over the top of his book. 

Oliver screams into his mattress before whipping his head up to look at Percy. “What’s his problem? Does he even think before he does anything?”

“What has Flint done now?” Percy asks on command, clearly disinterested, but listening just enough to satiate Oliver.

Rolling onto his back, Oliver stares at the canopy above him as he tries to figure out what to say first.

“Just the usual. Taking my practice time, messing up our Potions project, somehow getting out of our shared detention,” Oliver starts listing off on his fingers. 

With each problem, Oliver finds something even more to say about it, recounting as far back to his first year at Hogwarts. He pauses only to hear Percy’s noises of agreement before continuing on, almost running out of breath at one point. Groaning in frustration, Oliver flails on the bed before lying still.

“Do you ever get tired devoting all this energy towards him?” Percy finally asks a question back, staring at Oliver’s deflating form.

“Of course,” Oliver snaps. “You think I like this? That I enjoy the way he pisses me off?”

Percy raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips just a little. “If I were anyone else, I’d think so.”

Oliver jolts up, staring at Percy in disbelief. The fact that Percy even insinuated this in the first place is absurd and Oliver hisses out a sharp, “What?” at him.

Sighing, Percy sets his book to the side, crossing his arms, ready to lecture Oliver.

“You’re obsessed with him,” Percy says plainly and doesn’t give Oliver time to answer. “You talk about him every chance you get. I don’t even talk about Penelope that much and I adore her.”

Oliver attempts to defend himself between sputtered words and harsh swears but Percy doesn’t listen.

“Then why do you know his schedule? Why do you know where he’s at almost any given time of the day?”

“So I know he’s not spying on us.” Oliver’s voice is dripping with malice and he pushes himself off the bed. “I don’t have time for this.”

Percy doesn’t seem too offended as Oliver leaves the room, going so far as waving goodbye as he goes. In a childish act of defense, Oliver sticks his tongue out, then sprinting down the stairway. Once he’s out of Gryffindor tower, Oliver paces around in the halls, furious over Percy’s words.

He is not obsessed. 

Marcus is a smudge on his skin he can’t wipe away. That’s all it is. It doesn’t matter that he thinks Marcus is a good player when he doesn’t cheat or that he’d be a halfway decent person if he wasn’t such a jerk. 

Percy is wrong and Oliver is determined to do what he can to prove it so.

* * *

While Oliver and Percy are back on speaking terms, Oliver makes a point to avoid certain conversations with him. He doesn’t need any more of himself thrown on the table, especially around the other Gryffindors, so meal times are especially quiet now. 

Oliver isn’t too upset. It gives him more time to think over plays, planning the next practice session. He becomes so lost in his own thoughts, he doesn’t even realize he’s staring across tables until he sees a commotion that he has to pay attention to. 

Focusing his gaze back on the present, Oliver frowns at the sight of Marcus and Terence arguing while Adrian merely shrugs at Oliver. 

He doesn’t know what has happened, favoring to look at his plate for the rest of the meal. He hopes his staring hasn’t caused anything, but three Slytherins suggest otherwise.

Percy’s words echo in his mind and Oliver stabs at a carrot. 

“Not obsessed,” he mumbles when the fork hovers near his mouth.

“What was that?” Percy’s ears seemed to tune in to Oliver’s negativity, his face painted in innocence. 

As tempting as it is to flick his food at Percy, Oliver refrains with a hasty, “Nothing,” and glances back at Slytherin table. 

Marcus is, to his surprise, smiling now. Not a cynical, bitter smile, but one of actual happiness at something Terence and Adrian are talking about. 

Oliver blinks, squinting just a little, and turns away just as Marcus looks in his direction. Almost disgusted with the way he’s feeling, Oliver leaves the Great Hall in fear of his emotions leading him elsewhere. 

With his heart thrumming in his chest, Oliver thinks he might burst. 

All because of Marcus Flint and his smile that Oliver thinks - Merlin forbid - is charming.

* * *

Research for History of Magic has never been more dull.

Oliver’s sure he and Percy have been at it for hours and he has to leave unless Percy wants their papers thrown all over the place. Making an excuse to go to the bathroom, Oliver jumps up from his seat, speeding quickly through the library. Passing glances down the aisles, Oliver’s steps hesitate when he sees Marcus pulling and pushing books haphazardly. Oliver doesn’t know what compels him to do so, but he turns down a couple aisles over, hoping the books hide him enough. He can see Adrian and Terence approach and he shuffles closer to the other wall of shelves.

Hearing his name grabs his attention and he listens in, curious as to why he’s the subject of their conversation today. If it’s any plans to take over the pitch, Oliver’s got the Slytherins right where he wants them

“Ha ha, Adrian,” Marcus cuts into Oliver’s thoughts, his hand slamming down on the shelf.

Oliver grabs a nearby book, shoving his face into it as the group approaches closer to where he is. He curses himself for missing the first part of their discussion, hoping it’s not too late to catch any vital information.

Adrian sighs, his voice pitching downwards. “Well, just because you don’t think Wood is a good player, Flint…”

“What the hell are you saying? Wood’s a great keeper. Brilliant if you ask me,” Marcus bites and this gets a loud laugh out of Terence.

“Why Marcus, do you have feelings for Wood?”

The book in Oliver’s hands drops and the trio shushes each other as Oliver edges along the shelves. He can see the three hide back against the walls, but once Marcus’ face turns into one of a sullen frown, Oliver ignores all else to just get out of there. When the library doors are in sight, Oliver runs out until he’s in the safety of a secluded corridor, catching his breath with loud gulps. 

He wants to believe what he’s heard is nonsense, because it clearly is. Oliver’s sure Marcus has only mocked his quidditch skills at best. To hear him complimenting, acting like he’s interested, Oliver wants to laugh but instead his mouth forms a thin line. He hates the hope growing inside, as if he actually wants Marcus to admire him as he’s done with Marcus over the years. 

Shaking his head, Oliver scoffs, pushing from the wall. There couldn’t possibly be anything underlying Marcus’ comment. He just needs to focus on his project with Percy. Oliver’s stomach sinks with the realization he has to return to the library for his belongings and he takes his time, hoping Marcus and his friends will have cleared out by the time he returns. 

Just as Oliver opens the doors to the library, he collides with another body, but his choice words dry up when he sees the familiar sneer.

“Watch it, Wood. Can’t be marking up that pretty face of yours.” 

“Big words coming from someone like yourself,” Oliver retaliates, his chest tightening when Marcus’ expression falters. 

“Shove it,” Marcus pushes past Oliver, then followed by Adrian and Terence. 

The two of them give Oliver blank stares in response and Oliver remains in his spot, watching the trio march down the hall. It’s only when a small Ravenclaw clears their throat that Oliver enters the library. The moment before lingers in Oliver’s mind, regrets and confusion swallowing him whole.

When Oliver finds Percy where he left him, he shuffles into his seat without a word. Percy doesn’t even look up from his notes and it’s the one time Oliver is grateful for such a lack of concern.

* * *

“Why do you need me to get this book?” Oliver frowns, staring at the permission slip in his hands. “Why can’t you get it?”

“Because,” Percy sighs, slamming several books down on the table. “I need to start reading through these. You getting that will save us the time later. Unless you want to be here until the library closes.”

Oliver’s nose twitches in annoyance at how easy it is for Percy to convince him and he departs, but not without a noticeable groan. He heads towards the Restricted Section where Madam Pince glares down students, the note in his hand crumpled by the time he hands it to her. 

“Hm, this is one of the better excuses,” Madam Pince has to comment as she allows Oliver past the barrier. 

Oliver says nothing in response, dodging into aisles to get out of her view as fast as he can. It’s quiet and Oliver thinks he might have to do this again just to get some time alone. Muttering the book title to himself, Oliver peers up and down the shelves to the point where it feels like a wild goose chase. 

“Oh, Percy,” Oliver shakes his head, running his fingers along the spines of some books. 

He’s almost tempted to give up now and stay here until the library closes just to avoid any more homework. Oliver is sure Percy will have his head however and he resumes his search, his attempt halfhearted at best.

Oliver doesn’t mean to pull the next book off the shelf, but it seems to fall right into his hands, waiting to be read. 

With his face growing bright red at the title, Oliver glances around to make sure he’s truly alone, temptation leading his fingers. Flipping to the first few pages, Oliver is caught in the detailed imagery and slams the book shut, his eyes wide. 

No one sat him down to discuss subjects like this, his limited knowledge only based on rumors and superstitions from other students. To have a book that explains, well, everything, Oliver isn’t quite sure what to do with himself. 

His tie is constricting around his neck and within him, a need to look again grows. This time, Oliver reads the explanations accompanying the pictures, fascinated, curious, his own desires turning in his chest. Before he can react anymore, Oliver stops, shoving the book back, his breathing heavier than usual. 

Glancing down at himself, Oliver groans, hoping by the time he returns to Percy, he’ll at least look somewhat normal. There isn’t time now to take care of the matter, especially with Madam Pince on guard.

He should’ve made Percy find his research himself and Oliver leaves the book behind, despite the fact that his mind doesn’t.

* * *

Oliver jumps when Percy slams the door to their room open and Oliver shuffles up to sit on his bed. With an apologetic look, Percy makes sure the door shuts softly behind him before turning his attention back to Oliver.

“You were right.”

“Right about...what?” Oliver doesn’t trust this Percy despite that Percy is doing nothing out of the ordinary.

“You’re not obsessed with Flint. He’s the one obsessed with you.” 

A bark of a laugh escapes from Oliver. “Where’s all this coming from?”

Percy seems unbothered by this, touching his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I saw him hovering around the Restricted Section after you went in there. He does, in fact, make sure his team’s practice is right before or directly after yours...he stares at you during meals, whatever shared classes we all have. Surely you’ve noticed?”

Oliver hasn’t, assuming he himself was the one doing the staring. All this new information feels like a horrible prank and Oliver eyes Percy warily. 

“I’m just saying what I’ve seen,” Percy holds his hands up in defense. “You were the one who was so adamant about not being obsessed.” 

Oliver can’t help the sigh that leaves them as he sets his head in his hand. “Hovering around the Restricted Section, you say?” 

Now it’s Percy turn to be untrusting and he frowns at Oliver. “Don’t you get any ideas. School only.”

“Of course,” Oliver waves, but his mind is already shooting ahead.

Opening a Quidditch magazine, Oliver does his best to convince Percy his thoughts are elsewhere while his mind plots. He has wanted to see that book again and with catching Marcus spying as well, Oliver finds his two birds are easily being killed with one stone.

* * *

Oliver wonders why it isn’t more difficult to access the Restricted Section. With his genuine professor signature, pawned off of Fred and George, Oliver slides in, somehow without Madam Pince staring him down. 

He has one destination in mind, all while keeping an eye out for a certain Marcus Flint. Oliver has convinced himself this is all harmless, ignoring his knee-deep wading in dangerous waters.

When he finally reaches the section, Oliver is glad to have been alone so far and finds the book with ease. For now, Marcus can wait.

Oliver tugs it off the shelf, glancing over his shoulder once more before flipping through the pages. Image upon image burns itself in Oliver’s mind and he wonders what it would feel like. To have another body pressed up against his own, touches that meant more than hands bumping into each other. Just to try some of the suggestions, it all seems so unreal and more than Oliver could imagine.

“Enjoying yourself, Wood?”

Oliver snaps the book shut, spinning tightly to stare at Marcus. He didn’t expect him to show up this soon and Oliver finds himself at the mercy of whatever Marcus throws at him.

“Shut up, Flint,” he blushes, attempting to hide the book still in his hands.

Marcus laughs at this, snatching the book from Oliver’s grip. “Thought someone like you wouldn’t need this,” Marcus comments as he flips through it himself, his eyebrows raising only once.

“What do you mean by that?” Oliver scoffs. He knows he shouldn’t get so riled up but Marcus has baited him.

“Oh, come off it, Wood,” Marcus bites back, setting the book to the side. He leans back against the wall, glancing over his shoulder at the window. “You, Gryffindor Keeper, with your hair just so and a smile everyone adores.”

“Sounds like someone’s jealous,” Oliver blurts out, taking a step back when this earns him a rough grunt. 

Marcus doesn’t say anything else, however, his arms crossed like a barrier in front of him. In this moment, Marcus is different. Not weaker, Oliver wouldn’t dare to think such a thing. 

Here, with the two of them jumping headfirst in personal questions, Marcus seems pensive. As if he’s hoping for someone to understand as well. 

Oliver watches Marcus, curiosity growing until it becomes a need to correct, to know. “As shocking as it might be, I haven’t been with anyone. Not even girls.”

This seems to grab Marcus’ attention and he is reluctant to meet Oliver’s gaze. “So, you’re into blokes, then?”

It’s the question Oliver was hoping Marcus would ask and he gives a singular nod. “I suppose.”

“What do you mean you suppose?” Marcus shakes his head with a scowl. “Do you need to kiss me to find out or what?”

Oliver swallows, straightening himself up. “Are you offering?”

Marcus pales at this, his eyes going wide for a second. The silence between them is deafening, Oliver ready to run, should he need to. Up until this point, Oliver hadn’t been sure why he was looking for Marcus and now the answer is glaringly obvious.

With a sigh, Marcus looks back down at his feet, his arms tightening even more around his body. “Fine. Whatever. Do it before I change my mind.”

Oliver’s stomach flips and he can barely force himself to move, taking hesitant steps towards Marcus. Once he thinks he’s close enough, Oliver ducks his head a little, trying to get Marcus to look up. 

Seeing Marcus unmoving, Oliver decides to take what he’s given and leans in, his lips stopping just before Marcus’.

The moment is sweltering, his robes becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Oliver wonders why this is taking forever until he realizes he still hasn’t moved any closer.

He struggles to think beyond how Marcus’ breath feels on his lips, his mind panicking with being close to someone he thought he hated. If he had ever truly hated him at all.

Lips crash against his own and Oliver holds his balance as he and Marcus press into each other. Oliver braces his hands on either side of Marcus, his hands curling into fists. Besides his initial push, Marcus’ lips are soft and Oliver thinks he can smell a hint of lavender. He doesn’t want this to stop, but he breaks the kiss first with a small gasp. 

With their face still hovering in mingled breaths, Oliver’s eyes dart around, barely noticing when Marcus’ arms drop to his sides. 

It’s only when their gazes meet again that Oliver knows what will happen next and he dives into an open kiss. 

Oliver shivers when Marcus’ tongue enters his mouth, arms wrapping around his body. He tries to reciprocate, but Marcus steers the entanglement until Oliver just plays around absentmindedly. 

They end with a small, chaste kiss on each other’s lips and Marcus drops his hands first, allowing Oliver to back away. 

“Not...not bad,” Oliver stammers, mentally kicking himself for saying something so predictable. 

Marcus mumbles his agreement and the two clear their throats, unsure of where to go from here. 

Oliver’s mind is already carrying him away with disheveled fantasies, lingering touches, hoping Marcus will agree. 

“I’d like to try this again,” they say together and both purse their lips to hide their laughter. 

“Maybe we can...” Oliver gestures to the book as Marcus nods. 

“Teach each other,” he helpfully supplies.

Oliver matches Marcus’ acknowledgement, pausing his steps to give Marcus a final word. 

“I’ll let you know when.” He scurries off before his face can get any redder. Or rather, before his body can react any more.

Running into Madam Pince is the least of his worries, Oliver feeling lighter than air knowing what awaits him. While it probably won’t compare to being on the pitch, Oliver thinks he might actually have something that’ll occupy his time just as much as Quidditch does.

Either way, it’s his turn to admit Percy had been right all along, but Oliver thinks he can leave Percy hanging for just a little while longer.

**Author's Note:**

> hee hoo this was interesting
> 
> who wants some library smut lmao
> 
> [Tumblr](http://flintwoodandco.tumblr.com)


End file.
